


sealed with a kiss

by Minty (AMintyDyad)



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: F/M, HEA, He is Ben for Rey, He's Kylo to others, Im not going to write about her being hit, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Just that Rey will Flinch because of it, Kylo Ren is protective, Kylo a little possessive, No sexual trauma tho, Rey survived abuse, She was hit and yelled at, Spooktober, The Force Is Just Magic, Witch!Rey, familiar!ben, familiar!kylo, i swear its just fluff, modern!AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-29
Updated: 2020-09-29
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:02:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26711863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AMintyDyad/pseuds/Minty
Summary: What happens when a willful witch finds herself before the presence of an even stronger spirit? Well, she charms it of course.OrTrade in The Force for ~ M a g i c ~ and lightsabers for spells. It has witchy themes but it's all just gonna be big fluff (maybe dark fluff because of Kylo, he kinda intense and idk how that flies)
Relationships: Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 6
Kudos: 35





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> everythiiiiiing gonna be consensual here bby! I have another fic that is dub con and am a little chicken shit so I'm taking a small break. I've started this first September 1 but just got around to posting it now. Chapter 2 and 3 are roughly done (truthfully I wanted to post 4 chapters off the fly but yeah)
> 
> I'm not a witch but the term is used here but idk, think more magical girl even if a certain stud uses it all the time

There isn't a name for him - at least not anymore.

If he had one, it has been lost to the ripple of time. And even he isn't entirely sure how much time has truly passed. He considers time a concept left only to the living. The dead possess no semblance of energy as they visit from one place to the next. Sometimes they pass through for a small chat until the glimmer in their eyes begin to fade. He sends them along shortly thereafter, but he has no reason to join them anytime soon. And yet while he isn't dead, he doesn't move like a man alive.

It wouldn't matter seeing as no one can  _ see  _ him unless he allows them too.

He just sits and waits in his vacant house, but he can't remember what it is he is waiting for anymore.

_______

So many years have passed and none have touched the house. Everything remains intact, nestled in a forestry of trees and wrought iron gates. It's beautiful to those who discover it is often responded with a sharp gasp. The sudden discovery of a dark oakwood mansion with many dark windows for eyes - alone in the break of a forest is both breathtaking and frightful. It's presence alone feels perplexing as certain questions arise like:

_ Who does it belong to? _

And

_ How did I get here..? _

The house sits vacant of all other life and completely still - not even the shifting of the wood occurs anymore. He made sure of it, peace, quiet and solitude -  _ enough _ of it to make a living person go mad.

There's quiet and there is whatever  _ this _ is.

_________

And then one day in the dead of night, a banging so loud and rapid it drummed through the entire house. It nearly knocked him from his chair, but he rose to meet it nonetheless. His hand extended for the doorknob and he paused on the cold metal, briefly sensing a hum of magic. 

The sensation made his head dizzy and a strange flutter in his chest that he slowly recognized was his heart. He didn't know what to expect, but he did at least expect a  _ he. _

Instead it was a  _ she. _

  
  


A small frame huddled up against the wooden door, shivered. The roar of torrential rainfall nearly crushed up her near silent prayers.

_ Please open up - please please please. OPEN! _

With a come hither motion, he moved his hand and the house obeyed - the door creaking open.

She paused "Hello?" 

She stepped passed the threshold, another feat only meant for the strong. And yet she was a shivering  _ pale _ little thing. His gaze was watchful on her, her side profile that embued him with curiosity. Her lips a pale link, shivering and her dark lashes wet. 

"Is.. Anyone here?" Her voice was tender, shaken and he stayed still as she gathered her hands against her face for warmth. 

She couldn't see him,  _ granted  _ he was hiding, but a powerful witch or warlock would see that. Had it been a mistake? What he felt, was it a trick of desperation?

A clap of thunder ushered her in. She stood, her jeans soaked and her chucks muddy. A too thin blue long sleeve was her last defense and that  _ too _ , was drenched. Her hair was sticky to all parts of her neck and cheek and yet despite her dismal look, he had yet to look away.

It had been a really long time since he had anyone  _ alive _ here and she was very much so despite her current state.

"I need… help,  _ please _ ." Her voice was  _ wretched _ and he heard a darling little sob that came after it. Well even if he wanted to help her out  _ and he did _ there was a certain order to these things. 

Surely she knew that?

But she didn't seem too - or an even worst thought occurred to him. Maybe she didn't want too.

He eased beside the shell of her ear and spoke with a gentle whisper.  _ Go by the fire _ .

Her eyes glimmered and he recognized that she had at least heard him. He didn't know what to make of it though, when she removed her muddy shoes and left them before entering. His throat felt too thick to swallow, but he painfully did.

If he had been waiting for someone, he lived with the idea that the house should at least be welcoming and ready. The fireplace flickered, sustained by magic of his own - never eating at the wood or crackling. And now a  _ tiny _ witch was stationed before it, warming her hands and face.

He was stationed on the chair, his head tilted and propped by his hand. His gaze, warmly upon her form. And as the seconds slipped into minutes, he began to regard her as  _ his. _

_ His  _ witch looked distraught and only  _ his _ witch could summon a monsoon that could take down a small village if her tears did not end. So what was it that had upset her so?

"Are you feeling-," she gasped and swiveled around, their gaze meeting, "better?" Her eyes were on him, wide and affront with panic. He told himself he startled her and that it  _ wasn't  _ possible a powerful witch was living in fear. He couldn't entertain the idea that  _ his _ witch he waited so long for was being threatened because the very notion was twisting his energy. And he did not want to lose control.

"Sorry, I don't do well with storms," she laughed nervously, before addressing him, but was shy to meet his gaze. "You have a lovely place here." He knew she put her back to him, so that he wouldn't see the tears fall. And yet this house was  _ his _ and the walls were his ears and the windows his eyes. Yet, if she wanted to keep her emotions hidden, he would allow it for the time being.

"They say this place is haunted," her voice trembled and he thought about wrapping her into his arms to chase the cold away. Instead, he flexed his palm open and closed, a nervous tic. "I'd just like to warm up and dry off for the night.. I promise not to be a bother, you won't even know I'm here." 

"Impossible," he was silent and realized he spoke that outloud. "You're my guest, I couldn't ignore you if I tried," he corrected and she smiled slightly before nodding as if accepting to play the ruse.

And yet, the longer his eyes lingered on her, the less  _ settled _ he felt. Her fingertips were red and raw, her hands holding defensive wounds as if she held them up to protect her face. And her clothes clung to her body as if she had been weathering the storm for hours.

"If you like, you can take a hot bath and dry off," he hadn't expected her to turn back around. It was impossible for him not to meet her gaze, marvel at the intensity and then flick somewhere else less interesting. "I should have something dry that fits you.." He was reflecting on what to call her for the time being when she seemed to burst before him.

"So I can stay?" She spoke eager and it made his hands itch again. 

He was caught then by her gaze, he had to crane his neck down to look. He barely heard himself say, "you can stay as long as you like."

  
  


___________

A porcelain tub that was separate from any walls touching it. It had gold little feet curled under it for balance and the water was already hoy and bubbly. In the corner was a shower head with a bamboo wooden stool. Beside it were little amenities like soaps and shampoos. In the opposite corner was a few fluffy towels and on top of it was a folded long grey shirt of his. 

"You can rinse off before you soak," he spoke calmly. His hand rested on the bathroom door while she entered further in. "The hot water will warm you up quicker, you can take as long as you like, but I wouldn't recommend more than ten minutes." 

She was still standing in the middle of the bathroom, when he decided to add the last part. "The door locks from the inside," it was such a useless remark, but he wanted her to know that she could be safe here.

"Oh I.. Um,..." She paused as if searching her words, her voice sounded wretched as if the kindness was too much "thanks," she finished.

He wanted to confess that he was no such thing: kind or good. 

He wrestled against every wicked desire to turn around and soak in to his heart's content after he closed the door. His limits were tested and he easily entertained the idea of manipulating the young witch into making a pact with him. 

He kept envisioning those small perky breast under control of his tongue and  _ all _ the sinful things he would do if she was his. And then he heard her whimper and he knew  _ here  _ was where she would fall apart. And he was reminded what sort of monster he really was.

His hand slipped away and he busied himself in the kitchen, to focus on  _ other _ mindless tasks and ignore the driving sensation he felt. The urge to go in there and remind her  _ if she only just asked  _ he would do so. But it meant a pact and this was neither the time or place for it.

  
  


It was confusing; how her sorrow could resonate so  _ deeply  _ with his own. She kept her sobs as mute as possible, but he dared himself to listen, if only for his own comfort. In case her despair became too great and threatened to take her from him. He sat at the dining table, trays floating and his expression as troubled as he felt. 

He wondered if he could last the night.

When the bath was over, so were her tears.

"It smells great out here," she was all stretched smiles, but her eyes would roam. She settled on the plate of food, pancake and eggs. His gaze was on her slender, small ankles and the way his shirt hung three inches above the knee.. Everything about her was slim in comparison - if he reached out to grab her, he was certain his hand alone would swallow her limb. "I  _ love _ breakfast," but something told him she never saw much of it. He would change all that. 

"Who doesn't?" He gave her a small grin, one that disappeared inside his coffee cup. He didn't need to eat, but she didn't need to eat alone. 

"There's butter, here-" He extended his hand across the table and when she flinched, he felt everything inside him go completely still. He set the small butter tray within reach and withdrew his hand. He sat in silence, with his gaze facing outside the dark window.

It would have felt impressive to watch her finish four full stacks of hot cakes, but his mood was turmoil at best. The next time he looked at her, she was yawning - open mouth and her eyes tearing up from the stretch. 

Her mouth snapped shut after making eye contact with him and sheepishly she apologized. "Sorry, the hot bath and food really did me in." 

"C'mon, let me show you to your room," he set the cup down. It was empty, it had been for some time, but she didn't need to know that. He held out his hand, but he was much slower to extend it. 

Her eyes were trained on it and she took it, as he helped her stand, he got to watch color flood her cheeks. He didn't let go first, she did when her hand moved to tuck her damp hair behind her ear. 

She yawned inadvertently for the third time, this one was less controlled and she turned half way away. She followed his lead up the stairs and gasped when the fireplace lit by itself, but her eyes were on the bed that was half drawn back. She approached it and set her slim, chapped hand to the white sheets before pulling back as if it could burn.

"Is it - really okay if I stay?" Her voice was small, like a plea. Like she didn't want to be hopeful.

_ As if I'd let you leave. _

She was looking at him, he could feel her gaze without needing to confirm. He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned propped up against his door. 

"I told you before, you're my guest." And then, in a  _ not  _ so joking voice, he spoke. "Did you need me to tuck you in?"

"I don't think.." And then they were staring at one another. 

For the first time tonight, he was the first to purse his lips and look away. Under her scrutiny he couldn't stay composed too long. 

"You're..  _ Joking _ ." He kept his lips sealed tighter, dodged a look and with less certainly than before he looked at her. 

Her nose scrunched and for the first time tonight, she laughed genuinely. She crawled into bed and was under the covers. Her head was on the pillow, turned on her side to face him. She was wearing a little smile, but her voice was growing quieter, "But something tells me if I ask, you would indulge me, wouldn't you?"

"Well are you asking?"

He thought she was asleep or at least nearly there that she couldn't make sense of stuff. And yet he heard a gentle word, whisper to him like a soft promise.

_ "Yes." _

_________

And when the nightmares came to torment her, he was already laying in wait. He took her fears as payment. His fingers carded through her damp hair, drying it with willful ease and he dined on the things that tried to haunt her. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey learns she's a witch and the two goofballs misunderstand each other

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Im posting this before I go to bed, so I'll fix any errors tomorrow. I really wanted to post chapter 2 asap because its important to understanding what kind of story this is
> 
> Im at the point where I read thru it a ton, hopefully its magical fluff and kisses

It's the first night she's slept so soundly. 

And when she awakes, the sun is a source of warmth on her face. She has no desire to move, so she lingers a bit longer - perhaps it is all but a dream. Maybe she'll wake to an empty apartment, if it could really be called that. The place should have been condemned ages ago, but it's one source of shelter she has.

And yet this place is already infinitely a whole lot better. There's a sweet syrupy smell that's wafting in the room and she finds it impossible to ignore any longer. She's hungry for more food and those incredibly delicious hot cakes the man had made last night. 

She's out of the bed, crossing the room when she pauses to stop and see herself in the mirror. She's still dressed in a long grey shirt with nothing else underneath. And  _ yeah _ while that did work for last night when her emotions were running high - she doesn't feel as anxious anymore. Only vulnerable and a bit cold now that she's out from the warm bed. 

To her right in the mirror reflection she spots a pair of pink cotton ensemble with long sleeves and soft pants. It's remarkable how well the pants fit, but the shirt is a little loose in the front. There's also a pair of fuzzy pink socks and with it Rey feels instantly warmer. 

She finds the tall man in the kitchen, the source of all the delicious smells. There's only two plates and he seems focused on the task to crack one egg in the pan with one hand. To his left the plate is lined with toast, bacon and sliced orange peels. 

"Oh good, I'm almost done - I was worried I'd have to wake you." It's cathartic to watch him study the egg and then, glance up to her - she doesn't miss the way he takes a double look before smiling. 

"I'm glad it fits," and her attention drops down to her clothes.

It's hard to express any gratitude that doesn't feel cheap - it wasn't like he held the elevator door open for her. He invited her in - a total stranger into his house and gave her both food and clothes. The desire to repay was starting to manifest and in her panic she formed the only words she could think of.

"Do they belong to your wife?"

Clearly someone as gentle and kind was married - how else would he know how to care for a woman? She realizes only after that maybe this woman has passed and stutters, "I'm sorry that's rude." Of course she'd find a way to pry, even unintentionally.

"No actually-" His mouth parts as he slides the two eggs to one plate and three to the next - there's a bit of mirth once he's free. "They were my grandmother's," there is a pause to pick up both plates and set them on the table, he finishes, "oh but don't worry she has lots and wouldn't mind." 

Her eyes are on the plate and not on him, taking a seat with little reservations from holding back. He motioned with his hand and that was all she needed. The only thing she curiously wonders is if he meant to give her the plate with three eggs or if he made a mistake and could no longer correct it. 

It would be his loss as she dabbed up the runny egg with a piece of toast, her plate cleaned with only the peels of the fruit remaining. He's been mostly quiet and seemingly at peace, drinking his coffee and his plate is visibly empty. 

"We have much to discuss, little witch," her hands are grasping at a napkin and she pauses at wiping her mouth before continuing. 

At this closeness, she was able to see more of his defining features. His hair was dark as well as his gaze, but his skin was porcelain white. He had strong angles and a prominent nose, but all pieced together he looked regal. There was one sweeping scar across his face, that disappeared past his neckline and into the dark shirt he wore - a shirt similar to the one she was wearing before.

"How do I repay you?" She refused to be in debt and wouldn't shy away from hard labor if it meant she didn't have to return. 

He turned fully, body leaning forward as the wooden table creaked under his weight. She felt smaller under his hungry near primal gaze. It made her skin tingle and her thighs tightened at his response.

"You know what it is that  _ I _ want."

_____

"I've never done anything like that," she flushed to admit it. She was twenty this past summer, but she never had time to feel normal or wanted. 

He frowned, his tone accusing that she might be looking for a way out. "It's not hard, someone must have taught you what comes next."

"I know!" She hadn't meant to shout, but now the man was sitting back as if to take everything in and yet still offer her space. "I just - never did it, is all," her voice was a little shaky and she squeezed her hands to keep from revealing how they too trembled. 

"I can also do other stuff too, you know." She explained in detail how she was excellent at changing out the brakes on a car and swapping oil filters without making a mess. 

"I'm not interested in - " He paused and then did a second look at her, her cheeks burning up in color. "Wait." The wheels were beginning to turn slow and he held her gaze as if trying to drive an idea home.

"I mean I want  _ you _ to make a contract with  _ me _ ," each word enunciated slowly with intent.

The confusion was on her face next. "Excuse me? Do you mean like a job?" The only  _ job _ she had was working at Plutt shop, but he never used papers and only barked orders. The stuff he had her do was less reputable, like reusing old parts and selling them as new. And also rolling back the odometer.

His mouth twitched, clarifying further.

"Not that kind, the  _ other _ kind."

_____

"I-I never did any sex work," his eyes were widening with  _ horror _ , he had deduced their misunderstanding but sadly he was alone in it.

He croaked, but she must have not heard. "I'm still just a virgin." A sharp inhale filled him, his ears warmer than white coals in fire, redder than the flame they sat in. The heat of her words went into him, like a hot coal.

"That is n _ ot _ ," his throat tightened at the end, eyes shutting and he exhaled deeply. He was fighting to remain composed. Something that he was clearly failing at.

"I meant a magical one," he almost cried the words, explaining, "You're a witch -  _ Why don't you know this. _ " He didn't mean to chide her, but he was  _ flustered _ for sure. He didn't get flustered, that was supposed to be his talent. 

She snorted, in disbelief and then laughed. It tickled his ears. "With the pointy hat and broom?" 

Her laughter ceased, "I'm not.. A  _ witch _ ," the room's lights flickered as if something was beginning to awaken in her. Her breathing was beginning to slow into an uneven pace and she looked at him as if she was beginning to understand.

"It's okay, I feel it too. I'm not  _ really _ human," she stood immediately at his confession and he followed her with his eyes. He liked the scent she was giving off - ripe and brimming with raw magic. "But you're a smart girl, you knew that."

"How did I come to this place?" And then, the pieces fell into place. "It was like something drew me here."

He gave a small nod of his head - "You were drawn here, to me and I, to you. A witch and a familiar."

She took one step back, but he made no effort to close the distance. From here, he wanted it to be her choice, but he stood and held out his hand. "You need a teacher, someone who can protect you and keep you safe."

"You already were kind to me, why would I need a contract?" 

He raised a brow, these weren't the usual questions a witch would ask. How could she truly know so little? The thought of a witch in the wild wasn't just sad, but frightening - the disaster it would spell.

"The longer I do things for you, the deeper a debt you'll owe me." He drank in the sight of her, from her feet to her face as if he could see right into her very soul. "One you won't be able to pay." 

She shivered and he licked his lips. "And what do you get out of the contract?" 

"A cute little witch," he replied quickly, a little too quickly. 

She scrunched her nose into a slight frown. "You're just messing with me, aren't you?" A small, smug smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth but he avoided her gaze. "No.. You have something to gain from all this." She huffed, but he decided not to be too forthcoming.

"What do I have to do for the contract?" 

"So you'll accept?" He hadn't meant to sound so surprised, but his tone clearly indicated it. His shoulders relaxed when she nodded and he fell silent as if contemplating many things. 

"I'm stronger than you -" 

"I gathered as much," she replied softly, her gaze roaming over his body. It took everything not to stand a little taller, but it was a losing battle.

"I  _ meant _ in regards to the contract." If it was one thing he wanted, it was the need to keep control of the conversation. 

"I know what I said," she was sounding a little more brazen now - and he found himself silently enjoying it. 

He exhaled deeply - it was such a tempting situation, but he still clarified even if it put him in a bad light. "Entering a contract with someone stronger than you is dangerous, I could monopolize your powers and enslave you to me.. Forever, little witch."

"But you won't do that, will you?" This time it felt like her gaze could see through him.

"No I," he answered quickly but paused and then. "That's not what I want."

"And what do you want?" Her voice was quieter than usual. 

His gaze pulled to fix on her and it lingered for a long while before speaking. "I want to be your exclusive familiar - I'm not the sharing type."

"Does that mean I will be your only witch?" He sucked in a breath to inhale. "I'm not the sharing type either," her lips were turning into a slight smile.

"Yes." 

"Okay then," she seemed to make her answer on the spot.

He held his hand out once more, but this time she was stepping closer. Her small hand fitted into his palm, but it was the small touch in itself that stroked through the magical bond. His thumb swept along her small knuckles unable to resist the action and perhaps, linger outside their connection just a little longer.

"Your  _ stalling _ ," he felt her words prod at him, but she seemed just as entranced as he was. "Tell me  _ how _ to seal the contract." Her voice was pleading and he yearned for her a little more. He can understand now why his grandfather strayed - to lose this connection would be maddening.

"We're supposed to write down our rules, lay everything out and enchant it. It would bind our magic to keep our restrictions in play." The whole ordeal was supposed to be as rigorous as putting together a wedding, not haphazardly thrown into a pot and stirred just  _ hoping _ for a good outcome.

"And then?" She breathed and at this distance he could smell the orange citrus.

"We kiss," his eyes were resting on her mouth. 

______

"We kiss?" She breathed gently, repeating what he said, out loud before she even knew it. He looked so much like a man - a real one, but the swirl inside her stomach was telling her otherwise. He had a heartbeat, but he seemed to exist in a realm she really didn't understand. 

But he told her he wanted her and she realized that she had never had that. People, wanting her, were not phrases that went together in her life.

She moved forward and his arms that had been listless at his side until now - enveloped her gently. His touch was light and gingerly, giving her room to escape if she wanted too. She realized how concerned he was, how he didn't want to pry - so close and the whole thing was starting to feel very vexing. 

Her hand was up against his dark hair, pulling him down to her. If he was unsure, she could be sure for the both of them. Her lips crashed against his, finding them dangerously soft and yet perfect for her. The hesitation in him was blown away.

It was the sudden charge in the air that shifted between them. An  _ electric  _ pull that ran from his face, down the base of her spine where it coiled between the two of them.Her hands held his face, but her lips parted offering more. The more she offered, the more he was willing to take. And the electric charge between them began to feel more like elation. 

The hum inside her head was ignored because she was hungry, hungry for all that he offered her. His tongue that wrapped hers up coyly. The way his hands held her safely to him and the reassuring squeeze to her body when she emitted soft sounds.

It was like the balloon she was standing on had popped and with it, her legs no longer supported herself. But it was fine, his arms were strong enough to support her and she knew it. His hand was cradling the back of her head. Her head tilted back, eyes closing briefly as she took in deep breaths of air. 

"I'm sorry, I forgot the process can be a bit much, when you exchange magic" he sounded breathless as well, which made her feel a little less self conscious.


End file.
